Stardate
63081.9
Captain Charlie Momsen of the starship USS
Triton and his first officer, Commander Rher Tanndund, sat in the station commander’s office aboard Starbase 719, receiving their final mission
briefing from 719’s commanding
officer, Rear Admiral Val’ri Raiajh,
and her own executive officer, Commander Cathryn Pearson.
“One of the
things I want you to keep close in mind, Captain,” Raiajh
was saying, “is to remember that your ship, for the first several weeks of your
mission, will be traveling close to known Kairn
space.”
Momsen nodded. He
had served as Triton’s first officer for
the three years the starship had participated in the Small Magellanic
Cloud exploration mission, a mission that seemed doomed to failure on more than
one occasion, and decided this new mission toward the heart of the Milky Way
galaxy would be similarly fraught with peril and danger. A part of him looked forward to the
challenge, especially now that he was in command of the Triton. Meanwhile, Raiajh continued her brief.
“As was explained
in Admiral Fil’s mission briefing the other day, any
and all contact with the Kairn is to be reported to
this starbase ASAP.
But don’t go looking for them! If
at all possible, avoid any Kairn entanglements.”
“Understood,
Admiral,” Momsen replied. He then looked at his first officer.
“Triton’s crew compliment is at full
strength,” Tanndund reported, reading off a padd. “All supplies
and consumables have been replenished.
Vessel status stands at 100%. Triton is ready to depart.”
“Very good,” Raiajh replied. The
Vulcan-Deltan woman then stood and offered Captain Momsen a handshake and said, “As you humans are often prone
to saying, good luck, to you and your crew, Captain.”
“Thank you,
Admiral. Request permission to depart?”
Raiajh nodded toward her executive officer, who responded,
“USS Triton has permission to depart
the starbase.”
“Thank you, Commander
Pearson,” Momsen replied with a smile.
Space,
the Final Frontier…
These
are the voyages of the starship Triton!
Star Trek:
Triton
“Quick Transition” By PJK
Captain’s log, stardate
63103.8:
We have completed our survey of the Sigma
J-19 system. It’s hard to believe it has
only been little more than a week since we departed Starbase 719 and began our
mission in earnest.
Momsen,
out.
Captain Charlie Momsen sat in his command chair, a cup of hot steaming
coffee in one hand, as he spoke to his Chief Science Officer, the Caitian Lieutenant Ckathel Brightslay, who was sitting in what would normally be the
executive officer’s seat to the captain’s left.
“Stellarrrr carrrrtography and planetarrrry geosciences have alrrrready
begun analyzing the data we collected at Sigma J-19, Captain,” Ckathel reported.
“What’s next on
the agenda?” Momsen said after a quick sip of his
drink.
“Our next surrrrvey is a system bearrrring…,”
Ckathel consulted a padd he
was holding. “…333 marrrrk
9, distance 10.4 light yearrrrs. It’s rrrrather
exciting actually.”
“Why is that,
Lieutenant?” Momsen asked.
“Earrrrly long rrrrange sensorrrr indications suggest an advanced civilization on
that planet,” Ckathel replied. “Unable to tell at prrrresent
if they’rrrre prrrre- or
post-warrrrp, but could be our firrrrst
Firrrrst Contact situation of the new mission.”
“Captain!”
interrupted Ricardo Le Boeuf, the tactical
officer. “I’m detecting two unknown
vessels; Bearing: 329 mark 330; Range: 1.2 light years;
Speed: warp two. They’ve just turned on
an intercept course with us.”
Lieutenant Ckathel quickly moved to the science console behind the
seat he had been sitting in as Momsen, grinning,
remarked, “Looks like they’re coming to meet us! Helm, drop us down to impulse speed. Ahead one-half impulse.”
As the Triton slowed to sublight
speed, the two unknown vessels continued to close on the Federation starship.
“Captain,
recommend raising shields until communications and intentions of the unknown
vessels are established.”
Momsen appeared a little disappointed, but understood why
Starfleet regulations for the past century were adamant about starships raising
their shields when being approached by unidentified spacecraft.
“Very well. Raise
shields. And hail the vessels with
standard universal friendship greetings.”
“Hailing
approaching vessels,” the tactical officer confirmed. “Vessels still approaching
at warp two. They’re not
slowing. In fact…” Le Boeuf’s face
suddenly turned white with fright.
“Captain, they’re arming weapons!”
“Captain!” added
Lieutenant Ckathel.
“Warrrrp signatures match those we have on
file for Kairrrrn warrrrships!”
“The Kairn? I thought we managed to skirt around their
territory?” Momsen commented before ordering,
“Shields to maximum! Arm all phasers and torpedo bays!”
“Captain, we’re
being hailed,” the tactical officer reported.
“This is Captain
Charles Momsen of the Federation starship Triton,” the captain started to
say. “We have no wish to engage…”
“The Kairn Empire will not tolerate any Federation incursssion into our territory,” a hissing voice quickly
replied, cutting Momsen off.
“We had no
intention of entering your territory.
We’re just passing…”
“Captain! Third Kairn ship has just dropped out of warp on the port beam!”
Le Boeuf urgently reported as, on the viewscreen, the first two battlecruisers
appeared out of warp, stopping seemingly meters away from the Triton.
“Helm, get us out
of here!” Momsen ordered,
moments before the Kairn ships opened fire. The Triton
rolled to starboard under the pounding.
“Shields are down
15% but holding,” the tactical officer reported.
“Fire at will!” Momsen ordered.
The Triton opened fire with both phasers and torpedoes,
striking back at the larger, better armed Kairn
warships as the helmsman tried to maneuver under and away from the surrounding
attackers.
“Shields down to 50%.
Damage reports coming in from all over the ship!” reported the officer
at ops.
“Captain, circuitry
on the lateral phaser array has burned out. Torpedo tubes two and three inoperable. Repair crews are responding,” Le Boeuf added.
“Divert life
support power to shields!” Momsen ordered, just as
the ship lurched suddenly forward.
“Aft shields just
took a direct hit by a nuke!” the ops officer reported, holding onto his own
console for dear life. “Shields down to 33%!
Aft shield has collapsed! We
can’t take another hit like that!”
“Helm, come
around, course 180 mark 330!” Momsen ordered.
On the viewscreen, one of the Kairn battlecruisers could be seen, firing yet again on the Triton.
Then, from the right corner of the screen, a fourth ship could be seen
just entering the battle.
“Another ship has
entered the sector,” ops reported.
“We’re done for,”
Momsen said sadly as he prepared to launch the
starship’s log buoy in the hopes Starfleet would at least learn what had
happened to his vessel.
“Maybe not!” Ckathel remarked with
a toothy smile. “The new ship is Morrrrain!”
The Morain were a race which had been at war with the Kairn for centuries, a war that had turned into a stalemate,
after which the Kairn had turned their eyes toward
conquest of Federation space. When the
starship Dauntless had encountered a Morain vessel in distress in 2382, an alliance was quickly
formed between the two governments against the Kairn,
including an exchange of technology that now allowed Federation starships to
withstand the Kairn weaponry that originally had
devastated Starfleet.
The Morain ship swooped in like a great bird, coming between
the Triton and its attackers before
opening fire and severely damaging the nearest Kairn
vessel.
“Tell me when we
have our torpedoes back on-line!” Momsen
ordered. “Helm, bring
us about, course 001 mark 2, then back us away; full impulse!”
As the helmsman
acknowledged, several medical personnel, including the ship’s Chief Medical
Officer, emerged from the turbolift on the port side
of the bridge, heading directly toward the injured tactical officer.
“Captain, one Kairn ship is breaking off its attack and retreating,” the
ops officer, who had taken over the duties of tactical as well, reported. “Another is trying to outflank us while the Morain are busy with the third.”
“Keep firing
those phasers until we have nothing left to fire!” Momsen implored.
The phaser strips on the Triton
continued to shoot out beams of phased energy at the pursuing warship,
harmlessly striking the enemy vessel’s stronger shields. Little if any damage was incurred.
“Captain, purrrrsuing Kairrrrn vessel is prrrreparrrring to launch another nuclearrrr
missile!” Ckathel reported.
Reluctant to
leave their Morain ally behind but seeing little
other choice, Momsen ordered the helmsman to warp
away on whatever course they could get clear.
The helmsman acknowledged, but it was already too late. The missile burst out of the launch tube of
the triangular-shaped Kairn vessel, on a collision
course with the Triton.
Time seemed to
slow down as the missile closed on the bow of the Triton, striking the Federation starship’s weakened shields and
exploding in a burst as bright as a hundred suns. Almost every console on the bridge erupted in
sparks. Captain Momsen
found himself being thrown out of his command chair and onto the deck in the
middle of the bridge, almost tumbling down the steps into the back of the helmsman’s
seat, while the Chief Medical Officer was flung over the aft bridge railing,
his neck making a sickening crack as his head hit the deck by the command
chair, leaving him laying where he landed like a discarded rag doll.
Captain Momsen started crawling toward the doctor to see how badly
he was hurt when a sound from above drew his attention. As the Triton
continued to shake under the hammering of the Kain
weaponry, Momsen looked up toward the overhead just
as a section of the ceiling gave way, a duranium
support beam crashing down directly on top of the captain.
Everything went
black.
* * * *
Ship’s log, stardate
63109.3; Second Officer Shaun T. Peehs recording:
The Triton is under escort by the two Morain vessels who came to our aid during the battle,
destroying one Kairn battlecruiser
and driving off the other two. We are
currently on a heading toward a nearby Morain
shipyard, where our allies have offered to help repair our starship.
While Triton herself was not severely damaged, only the
shield generators and several weapons systems destroyed, our brief battle with
the Kairn killed several key members of our crew, not
the least of which include Captain Charlie Momsen,
our executive officer Commander Rher Tanndund, Chief Medical Officer Doctor Herb Watkins, and
security chief Lieutenant Ricardo Le Boeuf.
I have dispatched a subspace communiqué to Starbase 719 apprising them
of our situation. Admiral Raiajh has informed me that we will be receiving
replacement crew members before the Triton leaves the shipyard.
Lt Commander Shaun
T. Peehs, acting-commander.
The Luna-class
starship Triton floated serenely
within the semblance of an orbital drydock high above
the planet Knoksia II, one of several planets in the
sector belonging to the Morain Alliance. Like much of Morain
construction, the drydock looked less built out of
metal than as if it had been grown from intertwining branches of an immense
tree and moved to orbit. Nearby, at station keeping, orbited the starship USS Besiege, under Captain William
McLeod, which had quickly transported several dozen technicians from Starbase 719 to help in the repair of the Triton and now stood guard over the
damaged starship until it could return to its mission.
Walking down one
of the corridors on deck three, Lt Commander Shaun Peehs,
the Triton’s most senior surviving
officer and now acting-CO, spoke to Lieutenant George Worthington Gallagher,
the Chief of Operations who was also filling in as acting-Chief of Security.
“Work crews hope
to have all the damaged consoles on the bridge replaced by 1800 hours
today. Some of what the Besiege brought out to us is the old
equipment the Corps of Engineers removed from the Triton during our overhaul a few months ago,” Lieutenant Gallagher
reported. “We’re going to be losing the
holographic console interfaces the upgrades had, but Commander Budahn promises the bridge systems will be up and running.”
“That’s
good. Definitely don’t want to leave Knoksia without operational tactical systems,” Peehs said.
“What about crew
replacements?” Gallagher asked as the two officers stepped into a turbolift.
“Bridge,” Peehs ordered. “I
received a communiqué from Admiral Raiajh
yesterday. Starfleet is currently
assembling a list of potential replacements as we speak.” The turbolift door
opened onto the bridge, which was a hive of activity as both Starfleet
technicians and meter and a half tall, grey-furred, squirrel-like Morain engineers worked to fix the various bridge
consoles. Peehs
nodded at the Starfleet chief petty officer who was supervising the work,
receiving a nod back in acknowledgement, as he and Gallagher entered the ready
room on the starboard side of the bridge.
“The Admiral said it would be several weeks before the new captain and
crew would arrive.”
“Any idea who the new CO or First Officer will be?”
“Not a clue,” Peehs admitted as he sat down behind the commanding
officer’s desk and glanced uncomfortably, and not for the first time, at the
crack in the transparent aluminum window at the front of the room.
“Hey, George. On your
way out, could you tell that Chief on the bridge that his next priority is
replacing that window?”
Gallagher looked
over at the window and nodded enthusiastically.
* * * *
Two Months Later
Stardate
63287.3
The transport
ship slowly maneuvered alongside the Triton,
which had moved out of the Morain drydock
almost a week earlier. Slowly, the
transport’s shuttlebay opened and a Type-12
shuttlecraft emerged, making the short voyage over to the Triton’s waiting hanger deck.
As the
shuttlecraft settled down on the deck and the hatch opened, the Triton’s five remaining senior staff
members snapped to attention. A moment
later, a human woman with short dark hair and a pleasant round face stepped out
of the shuttle and walked over to Lt Commander Peehs,
followed by several nervous-looking ensigns.
“I’m Captain
Amanda Tomkins,” the woman said in an English accent as she handed a padd to the starship’s acting-CO. “I’m here to relieve you as commander of the Triton.”
“Welcome aboard,
Captain,” Commander Peehs said, introducing himself
before introducing the other members of the senior staff. “Lieutenant George Worthington Gallagher,
Chief Operations Officer. Lieutenant Mallory
Alston, Chief Engineer. Lieutenant Ckathel Brightslay, Chief Science
Officer. And Ship’s
Counselor Grace Hsen.”
Tomkins shook
each officer’s hand, then introduced the six officers
that had accompanied her.
“Ensign Liam
Petrie. Ensign Darryn
Blake of the
“Is there
somewhere we can talk, Commander?”
Peehs nodded, then turned to Counselor Hsen
and said, “Counselor, could you show the rest of the crew replacements to their
quarters and help them settle in?”
“Of course,” the
Asian woman replied before gesturing to the young ensigns. “Follow me, gentlemen.”
Tomkins and Peehs watched the seven crew members walk out of the hanger
bay before the chief helm officer looked at his new captain and said, “They’re
so young! Surely Starfleet doesn’t
intend for them to be department heads, do they?”
Tomkins nodded
gravely as she replied, “There weren’t many experienced officers available who
were willing to take on this assignment, way out here beyond Federation
borders. These ensigns may be green, and
in fact Starfleet commissioned them out of the Academy several months before
they were expected to graduate. In actuality
they are only acting-ensigns, but they are to be addressed and treated as fully
commissioned Starfleet officers.” Peehs nodded in agreement.
“The Commandant of Starfleet Academy assures me they’re enthusiastic and
capable and should be a real asset to our mission.”
Peehs nodded, then asked, “I realize you’ve just arrived, but
what would you like to do first, Captain?
Officially relieve as Commanding Officer? Or would you prefer to be shown to your
quarters and rest from your long trip out here?”
Tomkins looked
around the shuttlebay, which was similar in size and
shape to the shuttlebay of an Intrepid-class starship
or the hanger bay of the old Constitution-class starship on exhibit at the
“Of course. Follow
me, Captain. I’ll take you to your
quarters first so you can drop off your belongings. Then I would be happy to show you around.”
* * * *
After Captain
Tomkins dropped her personal belongings off in her new quarters, where she
noticed several items that had belonged to Captain Momsen
still present on the shelves and made the mental note to make sure they were
properly and respectfully packed up to be shipped back to Starbase 719 for return to his next-of-kin, her tour of the Triton commenced in main engineering. Several hours later, after touring most of
the starship’s spaces, the two officers finally reached the bridge – which was
unoccupied save for the two of them – all the consoles on computer control. There, Commander Peehs
explained the extent of the damage the Triton
had endured, the repairs that had been accomplished, and that – for the time
being at least – they were back to the old standard consoles instead of the
newer holographic interfaces most of the starships in the fleet were equipped
with. As she walked around, Tomkins
noticed places where the carpet still had signs of singes and burns.
“Will we be ready
to get underway within 48 hours?” the captain asked. “Starfleet is anxious for the Triton to get back into the game.”
Peehs looked a little surprised by the question. He hesitated a moment before replying, “The
ship is physically capable of getting underway right now, Captain. But with all due respect, surely Starfleet
doesn’t expect us to return to deep space with a crew of children. Hell, we don’t even have a First Officer
yet!”
“An inconsistency
that is about to be corrected,” Tomkins said as she sat down in the command
chair near the center of the bridge and touched the LCARS interface between the
two seats. “Computer, transfer all
command codes to Captain Amanda Tomkins, in accordance with Starfleet special
order number 136-286-Alpha-Alpha-1, stardate 63205.1,
authorization Tomkins-178-Kilo-Whiskey.”
“Transfer
complete. USS Triton now under command of Captain Amanda Tomkins,” the
computer replied a moment later. Tomkins
then looked up at the chief helm officer.
“Computer, enter
into the official record, effective immediately, Lt Commander Shaun Peehs is appointed as this vessel’s First Officer.” Peehs looked
stunned for a second.
“Captain?” he
said.
“As I said
before, Starfleet is a little shorthanded on officers in our neck of the woods at
the moment. I’m afraid you’re going to
have to pull double duty. At least for the time being.
Can you handle it?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Peehs replied with a large smile as Tomkins stood back up
and shook her new First Officer’s hand.
“Now, shall we retire
to crew’s mess? Drinks are on me,”
Tomkins asked, gesturing toward the turbolift.
“Of course,
Captain,” Peehs replied.
* * * *
Less than two
days later, Captain Tomkins stood in front of the main viewscreen
on the bridge. At the helm console directly
in front of her sat Ensign Joshua Crowder, who readied his station for
departure from the Knoksia system. To the captain’s right, at the operations
console, sat Lieutenant George Worthington Gallagher, while at the science
console just past the turbolift door sat the cat-like
Lieutenant Ckathel, his bright yellow eyes staring
intently at the new captain.
On the other side
of the bridge sat Ensign Liam Petrie, manning the security/tactical
station. The young man had turned his
seat around to face the captain while she spoke. And forward of Petrie, past the ready room
entrance, sat Lieutenant Mallory Alston at the engineering console, while Lt
Commander Shaun Peehs sat in the port-side command
seat next to Counselor Grace Hsen on his left, while
standing on the aft upper bridge level, separated from the command area by a
silver rail, were gathered Medical Officer Darryn Blake, the Antosian Security Officer Simon Millard, Operations Officer
VicMichael Nabel, and the Rigellian Helmsman Cameron Weston.
“I know you
weren’t expecting this,” said Captain Tomkins.
“Especially those of you who accompanied me here from
Earth.” The captain looked around
at her crew as she continued. “To quote
another famous Starfleet captain of the past, I’m afraid I must ask you to grow
up a little sooner than you expected.
Our mission out here is to explore the unknown. It can be a dangerous job, as the more
experienced crew of this starship can readily attest to. But it’s the job we chose to do, and I intend
for this crew to do it well!”
Tomkins looked directly
at Lt Commander Peehs and asked, “Status, Number
One?”
“Ship and crew
are standing by, Captain,” Peehs replied.
“Very well. Stations
everyone,” Tomkins ordered. As Blake,
Millard, Nabel, Weston and Counselor Hsen headed toward the turbolift,
Tomkins stepped around the bridge and over to her chair to the right of the
First Officer. “Mister Crowder, plot
course 335 mark 0.”
“Course plotted
and laid in, Captain,” Ensign Crowder replied several seconds later.
“Very well,”
Tomkins said, sitting in her seat and crossing her legs comfortably. “Are you ready, Number One?”
“As ready as I’m
ever going to be, Captain,” Peehs replied with a
nervous smile.
“That’s all I can
ask. Helm, ahead warp
factor five.”
“Warp five, aye,”
Crowder acknowledged.
In orbit above Knoksia II, the Triton
turned to face its new course and, with a thunderclap of energy, sped away into
warp and towards the unknown.
The End
Return to 2386.
Return to Stories Archive.